


Darker Intentions

by YukiSetsu



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Burns, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Lance (Voltron) Whump, Langst, M/M, Nightmares, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Poison, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Voltron Paladins, Slow Burn, Torture, Whipping, because i am a weak soul, kinda???, never fear tis a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:15:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24780679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YukiSetsu/pseuds/YukiSetsu
Summary: When Lance gets chosen as the diplomatic representative to oversee a deal on behalf of Voltron, he's determined to make sure it goes through no matter what.Unfortunately, the other party is more than ready to take advantage of that fact.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 430





	Darker Intentions

**Author's Note:**

> someone explain to me how this started off as a quick oneshot to help with my writer's block only for it to turn into a 20k story,,,,, the power of langst
> 
> please be conscious of the tags before reading!!

“May we request the Blue Paladin as our intermediary?”

Lance blinked, his silence coupled with the rest of the team as they eyed the pair with confusion. They called themselves Luden and Kyno, two traveling mercenaries the team had come across during a supply stop on a small planet. According to their tales, they moved across the galaxy at whim, selling what they had on hand in order to survive. Today, they brought offers of zynite crystals, insistent that these would be helpful to Voltron and their endeavors to protect the universe.

Surprisingly, they had been right. Allura and Coran lit up at the mere mention of the crystals, and the pair had been escorted into the Castle for further discussion. As they walked, Coran explained the rarity of zynite to the team, eyes bright with anticipation. “Even the smallest amount can provide enough energy to power the whole Castle,” he said eagerly. “It is incredibly scarce across the universe, so should their claims ring true, this is a great opportunity for us.”

It didn’t take long for the conversation to go favorably. The zynite crystals, according to the pair, were contained in large chunks of volcanic rock due to the area it had been discovered in. It would take some time to process the material out and retrieve the crystals - around 4 Earth days, they claimed. They would stay on the planet in their ship during that time to complete the task. Once the crystals were prepared, they would be handed over to Voltron. The only thing they requested in return was Lance’s cooperation as the middleman.

“The Blue Paladin?” Allura asked, brows furrowing. “Is there something you need from him?”

“It’s nothing too difficult,” Kyno said as he waved a dismissive hand. “All we ask is that he visits our ship once a day during the course of our agreement. We can relay our progress on the crystals and he can share stories of his planet. We’d always been curious about Earthlings and their creations. And he seems to have great ability for the role.”

Allura still didn’t seem convinced, and Lance took the chance to step forward, a grin on his face. “Well, I’m glad _someone_ can recognize my potential as a diplomat. Talking’s my specialty.” He offered a hand in agreement. “My name’s Lance.”

Luden was the one who stepped up this time, taking his hand with a smile. “It’s nice to meet you. We can begin our meetings tomorrow, if that’s alright.”

There wasn’t much opposition, especially since it was such a simple offer. It would’ve been foolish _not_ to accept. Allura had thought as much, eventually agreeing to their terms. It wasn’t long before the pair took their leave, and soon the attention turned towards Lance. “You sure about this?” Hunk had been the first to ask, frowning. 

“Seems like a weird trade,” Pidge said. She stared at the doors where the pair had left from, arms crossed and eyes narrow. “Crystals of that kind and all they want are stories about Earth?” Besides her, Shiro and Keith remained silent, although the looks on their face looked as wary as the others. 

A small part of him couldn’t help but agree, but Lance still nodded, firm in his determination. This was one of his first independent missions. It was his chance to prove himself. He’d make sure this worked out if it’s the last thing he did. He looked to Allura and hoped she would believe it as well. “I’ll make sure this deal goes through. You can count on me.”

After a moment, Allura nodded, her posture relaxing. She reached up and gave Lance’s shoulder a light tap. “Alright, Lance. But do be careful.”

He could do this. He’ll be fine.

* * *

When Lance left the Castle - they had also docked the Castle on the planet, taking a small break until the deal was complete - and went to the duo’s ship the next day, he was surprised to find them already standing near the entrance. They waved him over when he got closer, greeting him as they led him inside. As they walked, he couldn’t help but eye the pair, wondering what their home planet was like. They were tall, maybe slightly larger than Shiro, the whole of their bodies covered in a sort of a metallic sheen. It paired an interesting combination with the purple hue that their hair and eyes took. He wondered if the metal-like appearance of their skin was true to its form and gave them a toughened sort of armor. Would be quite the advantage if it were.

They entered a small room, a lab of some sorts. Lance’s gaze immediately fell on the dark cluster of rock that lay on top of a large table. Different sorts of hammers and picks were sprawled across the surface, the crumbles of smaller rock scattered across the desk giving evidence to the start of their effort.

“Woah, are the crystals inside there?” Lance asked, unable to help himself from stepping a bit closer. The material looked like obsidian, large and smooth even with the cracks that were made along its surface. He was tempted to reach out and touch it, get a better feel for what it exactly was.

Kyno nodded, directing him towards one of the seats that were a few feet away. He reached for a pitcher on a smaller table and poured a glass before he handed it to him. “We’ve begun work on it last night, although it’s quite a lengthy process. The outer surface is quite durable since it’s been held together for so long.” 

Lance accepted the glass with a thoughtful hum. “It must’ve been tough to find.” He took a sip, surprised to find it tasting like lemonade. He might need to ask them for the recipe later on for Hunk. “How did you come across it?”

“When you’ve been traveling as much as we have, it comes easily.” Luden was the one to answer this time, fiddling with one of the chisels along the table. He looked up and threw a smile in Lance’s direction. “Although, we think what you have to offer is much more valuable to us.”

It was an odd statement, but he thought better than to question them. Maybe they were _really_ interested in Earth. He couldn’t blame them - just the thought of his planet had his chest tight with longing. He could probably talk their ears off with stories. He set the empty glass down with a nod. “Right, you guys wanted to talk about Earth, right?” He rubbed at his eyes, blinking hard when the room seemed to blur for a moment. Weird. “Is there anything specific you wanted to know?”

Someone grabbed at his shoulder, just barely catching him before he fell forward. “We can talk later,” a voice said, the words muffled in his ears. “Right now, we’ll take our share of the deal.”

Lance’s head spun too much for him to understand what that meant, black rapidly seeping into the edges of his vision. He tried to move, to sit up on his own, but his body suddenly felt so heavy. The voice was speaking again, yet he heard none of it, his world going dark in seconds.

* * *

When Lance woke, it was with a pounding headache. A groan slipped out of his mouth when he shifted, attempting to move. He was on the ground, the cold surface hard against his side as he tried to sit up. Something tugged at his wrists when he tried to straighten, and his vision finally cleared up enough for him to realize they were bound together in front of him. The hell?

“It’s about time,” someone said. “You slept for longer than we expected.”

Lance startled at the noise, eyes narrowing when he looked up to see Luden and Kyno looming over him, various degrees of amusement on their faces. They were in a different room now, this one completely devoid of anything besides them. The walls were toned down, a muted gray that made the room seem much smaller than it already was. “Is this how you guys usually enjoy storytime?” He snapped, finally managing to pull himself back upright. He wouldn’t win in a fight, not when he was at such a disadvantage. His Paladin armor was missing too, his bodysuit covered with only a white top and bottom that were much too big on him. “Not very cool, I have to say.”

“Apologies,” Luden said, “your stories will have to wait.”

Lance glared at them, his patience wearing thin. “What is it you want, then? The Lions? Are you allied with the Galra?”

Kyno waved a hand, dismissive. “No need to get worked up. You will get your crystals. Our goal hasn’t changed.” He smiled in a way that sent a chill down Lance’s spine. “Your cooperation is all we need.”

There was barely a moment for Lance to process the words before Luden moved, grabbing at his wrists with surprising speed as he tugged them forward. The sudden motion had Lance fall onto his stomach with a yelp. He attempted to pull away, grimacing when Luden pressed his wrists against the floor to keep him in place.

Kyno crouched in front of him, and Lance froze when he spotted the object in his hand. It looked like the larger version of a lighter, an orb of fire lazily dancing against the hilt. “W-wait,” Lance started, pulling harder against Luden’s grip. “Stop, _don’t--_ ”

“Sorry,” Kyno said, although his expression looked anything but. “This is gonna hurt quite a bit.”

* * *

Lance had experienced many injuries in his lifetime. Cuts, bruises, broken bones, knife wounds, laser wounds. Burn wounds, however, were not something he encountered often. Especially when they were intentional. But he could safely say that it was something he never wanted to go through again. The feeling of a fire that tore away at skin was almost excruciating, the pain severe and stinging even after the flame moved away, leaving his skin exposed and raw. At first, Lance had screamed. Had begged for them to stop. How could he not? He’d screamed until his throat ached, his voice sore from the overuse. The burns crawled up the length of his arms, and when they ran out of room, they moved onto his back.

“Stop, please--” Lance started, and his breath hitched when a hand pressed down against his shoulder blades. He choked back a sob, hating the tears that were threatening to spill down his face. “Get _off--_ ”

“Hey now, we’re just getting started.” Kyno teased as he pressed the flame against the middle of his back. Lance jerked at the contact, a muffled groan escaping his mouth. “It’s only fair that we get our share.”

Even now, Lance couldn’t comprehend just what it is that they wanted. What would they get out of this? All he could guess was that they found enjoyment in hurting others, and the thought of it had his stomach grow cold with terror. Was this the payment they’d been aiming for? White hot pain spread across his back once more, and Lance screamed again, his throat stinging at the motion. 

It went on for what felt like hours. Lance had long lost track of time, his mind too disoriented from the pain to know anything but the sensations that tore at his nerves. He’d lost almost all of his strength when they’d gotten halfway across his back, leaving him limp in their hands as they continued. Even taking a breath became painful, the slight movement sending waves of discomfort across his skin. He trembled at the effort not to move even when the flame touched his skin, not wanting to agitate his wounds more than he had. He just wanted it to end.

And to his relief, it did. The flame pulled away from his back and a foot pushed at his arm, effectively rolling him onto his side. Lance bit back a groan, his vision hazy as they attempted to focus on the two pairs of feet in front of him. It hurt to breathe. Everything hurt.

“I think that’s enough for today,” Kyno said, kneeling down as he caught Lance’s gaze. He grinned and reached out to wipe at a tear that had tracked its way down Lance’s face. The gesture left Lance sick to his stomach, and he jerked his head away, uncaring of the way it irritated his wounds. “Alright, Luden. You can heal him.”

Lance’s eyes widened as Luden took Kyno’s place, unsure if he heard right. Heal him? When Luden reached out, Lance stiffened, his breaths harsh in his attempts to brace himself for what was to come. But the contact never came; instead, Luden’s hand hovered over Lance’s body before a strange glow emitted from the other’s body. It was an odd color, purple that mixed with blue, the light encompassing Luden’s form before it crept towards Lance’s body. Lance shut his eyes in panic, wondering if this was another trick they’d planned, another play that they’d make him suffer through. He waited, numb with fear for something that never seemed to come. It was a few seconds before Lance heard movement again, and he opened his eyes to catch Luden as he stood back up. 

Somewhere from the side, Kyno reached for Lance’s hands. It was instinct for him to pull away, to avoid those hands, but the movement had Lance freezing with surprise. It didn’t hurt. He glanced down at his arms, sucking in a breath when he saw his wounds were gone. Even the blood had disappeared, his skin intact and clean as if nothing had happened to it in the first place. Kyno took advantage of the shock to reach for Lance’s hands again, yanking him so that he was forced upright. 

“I’m sure this goes without saying, but these sessions are a secret between us.” Kyno said, eyes playful even amidst the threatening tone he spoke with. “Speak of this to anyone and I’ll go tell your Princess that your disrespectful behavior led to the dissolution of this agreement, effective immediately. Is that understood?”

Lance shuddered, his heart pounding much too loudly for him to think. “Why, why are you…” He swallowed, still unused to the way everything felt _normal_ again. The burns still felt fresh on his skin, taunting him even when he couldn’t see them anymore. He tried to pull his hands away to no avail. “You guys are insane.”

Kyno clicked his tongue, grip tightening on Lance’s wrist. “That wasn’t a proper answer. Do you agree, or do we make a trip to the Castle now and report that the Blue Paladin has failed in his task within the first day?” He tilted his head, pondering. “Maybe we can find another one to substitute you. How about that little one in the green? They would make an interesting choice.”

Lance’s blood ran cold at his words, anger bubbling to the surface past the terror that had masked him. “Don’t you dare,” he snapped, stiff with tension. “You won’t go near any of them.”

The grip on Lance’s wrist tightened even more in warning, and Lance hissed at the discomfort, his arm trembling in an attempt to pull away. “Bold words. Well, the choice lies with you.” Kyno said, almost bored in his tone. He squeezed again, the skin digging painfully against bone. “Your answer?”

Lance wanted to refuse. It was an obvious choice - who would want to subject themselves to something like this? Yet when he thought of the team, of what they would think if such an important request had come down to nothing, or the possibility that his choice could place them in danger, his stomach clenched in a panic that was different from the one he’d felt earlier. No, this panic may be without pain, but it terrified him all the same. He didn’t want to fail. He wanted to help the team.

After a long moment, Lance ducked his head, a shaky breath escaping his lips. “I agree,” he whispered as he swallowed down the lump in his throat. 

Kyno released his grip and Lance felt the chains binding his hands loosen before they clattered onto the floor. “That’s what we like to hear,” he sang. “Your armor’s in the other room. You can head back once you've changed.” He reached out once more, uncaring of the way Lance flinched away, tugging his chin so that their eyes met. “We’ll see you tomorrow, same time.”

* * *

When Lance returned to the Castle, Allura was the first to greet him, at the forefront of the others as they waited to hear of his progress. According to them, he’d only been gone for about two hours. Such a fact had him feeling nauseous, unnerved that it had been such a short amount of time compared to what he’d imagined. Even still, Lance smiled, quick to reassure them that everything had gone fine, that things should go as scheduled. He gripped his hands in an attempt to keep them from trembling, chest tight with the need to stay calm. 

3 more days.

* * *

Heading back to the mercenaries’ ship the next day was likely one of the toughest decisions Lance had to make. He wanted nothing more than to shut himself in his room, feign an illness, and let the others find a way to negotiate the agreement with him out of commission. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t let that happen. He ignored every form of resistance his brain threw at him as he walked through the Castle and headed for the exit, nothing but dread pooling at the pit of his stomach.

Hunk caught him on his way out, face bright when their eyes met. “Lance!” He said, walking up as he slung a casual arm over Lance’s shoulders. It was a normal occurrence, yet the sudden contact had Lance stiffen up, an unexpected reflex that he cursed himself for. Hunk didn’t seem to notice, continuing to talk as they walked down the hall. “You heading over to those two mercenaries? Let’s grab some food before you go.”

The mere thought of food had Lance’s stomach turn, and he resisted the urge to throw up right then and there. “I’m good,” Lance said, and forced a grin when Hunk shot him a look of surprise. “I’m not that hungry right now, actually.”

Hunk slowed to a stop, his grip effectively bringing Lance to a stop as well. He looked over, something ascertaining in his gaze, and Lance adamantly stared at the floor, terrified that he would be found out if their eyes met. Hunk always had a knack for reading Lance, and this was the one time he wished his friend wasn’t so observant.

“You okay?” Hunk asked and gave Lance’s shoulder a light squeeze. Lance could only nod, standing there with bated breath as he prayed for Hunk to pass this over, to move on like nothing happened. And finally, after a long moment, Hunk sighed, his head gently bumping against Lance’s. “I get it. You’re nervous about this, aren’t you? That’s unexpected, I thought you’d be a lot more excited about your first solo diplomatic mission. Your time to shine and all.”

Lance could laugh at the irony. The morning before, that was all he’d been, a bouncing ball of anticipation and determination, ready to deliver only the very best of his abilities. He swallowed, the sensation like sandpaper in his throat. “Right,” he mumbled. “Guess I’m a little nervous.”

“Aw, don’t worry buddy!” Hunk said as he guided them back into a walk. They were heading toward the Castle doors. “You’ll do just fine. I know it. I’ll make a great meal for you when you get back, alright? Don’t worry too much.” He turned to face Lance once they reached the exit, a smile on his face as he pulled him into a hug. Lance leaned into it, allowing himself a moment of comfort as he gripped at the back of Hunk’s shirt.

Yeah, he’ll be fine. 

* * *

They didn’t drug him this time. No, now that he was aware of the situation, Lance was simply led into the room and allowed to change on his own. It was a different sort of dread to be awake and coherent, waiting in a room for people who would do nothing but hurt him. When they walked in, they bound his wrists like they had before, casually sharing conversation amongst themselves as if they were simply at breakfast. Lance let them, his body numb with terror and the dreaded anticipation of what was to come.

“Alright then,” Kyno said cheerfully. “On your hands and knees.”

Lance knew he should comply, needed to make sure the deal wasn’t broken, but he was paralyzed with fear, his breaths heavy in his chest as he stared towards the floor. He was afraid. He didn’t want to hurt. He didn’t want to be here. He couldn’t move.

Something flickered in the edge’s of Lance’s vision before a foot slammed into his stomach, the pain so sudden and intense he could’ve sworn he blacked out for a few seconds. He choked out a cry as he slumped forward, shuddering in his efforts to catch his breath. He couldn’t help but be thankful that he refused to eat that morning - he surely would’ve thrown everything up now if he had. 

“That won’t do,” Kyno said from somewhere above. “It would be in your best interests to obey orders.” 

Lance shuddered at the words. He _knew_ he had to obey, but his body just wouldn’t listen. His stomach throbbed, the ache coursing in waves that left him utterly exhausted. He tried to straighten up when he felt another foot press hard into his back, forcing him to stay on his knees, arms pressed against the ground in front of him to keep his face from hitting the floor. 

“Well, I suppose this is fine too.” Kyno hummed.

Something snapped along the floor next to Lance’s face, the familiar sound of a whip cracking across a surface. The realization took its time to sink in, and Lance could barely stiffen up with tension when the first lash hit his back. It left his head ringing, the blow knocking whatever breath remained in him as he curled forward, a scream ripped from his throat. Any thoughts of trying to move away could barely form in his mind before the whip hit his back once more, an agonizing cycle that he had no time to react to.

This was much more different from burn wounds. Different, but painful all the same. Lance didn’t have the endurance to try and hold back from screaming this time, each lash digging into his skin more painfully than before. It took about twenty hits before Lance’s arms gave out, no longer able to hold him up as he slumped onto the ground. He didn’t care for the way the floor dug uncomfortably against his face. He had no energy to move, his limbs trembling with effort every time he so much attempted to reposition himself. So he laid there, his breaths hitching when he heard the sound of the whip hit the floor once more.

“N-no more,” he whimpered, so quiet it might have gone unheard. He attempted to curl in upon himself, if only to better avoid the impending threat. “Please no more.”

He spotted feet near his face before Kyno kneeled next to him, his figure looming over Lance’s. “Humans are so fragile. Don’t you think, Luden?” Something pressed against Lance’s back, hard enough to agitate the fresh wounds, and he bit back a cry. “I’ve barely done anything and he’s already pleading for mercy.”

“Hm,” was all Luden said before he kicked at Lance’s back. It was a much harsher sensation, one that was sure to open his wounds even further. Lance screamed again this time, his eyes blurred from the tears that filled them as he fought to catch his breath. It hurt. God, It _hurt_. “How disappointing. I expected him to last a bit longer.”

“Are you at your limit, Blue Paladin?” Kyno asked, brushing back a few strands of Lance’s hair. Despite the gesture, there was nothing but mockery in his tone. Lance hated it. “Such a shame. Well, if you do choose to stop here, maybe it would be for the best that we end this deal as well. It hardly seems fair if you don’t give as much as you get.” There was the slightest bit of pressure against Lance’s back, a warning rather than a punishment. “So tell me. Are you ready to end it?”

Lance wanted to be sick.

Yes, he was finished.

He was tired.

He wanted to go home.

After a few moments, Lance shuddered, his breath rattling in his chest. He shook his head, stomach tight at the smile that grew on Kyno’s face.

“No,” he said, shutting his eyes. “I’m not.”

It took another twenty lashes before Lance finally passed out, mind and body too overwhelmed by the pain. When he woke, it was to an empty room, his wounds healed and his armor dumped in an unceremonious heap near the door. He sat up before he buried his face in his hands, fighting to even out his breaths as he urged the tremors running through his body to calm.

Two minutes. He’d give himself two minutes.

And after those two minutes, he picked himself up, changing into his armor before he headed back towards the Castle.

* * *

“Lance, you alright?”

Lance turned at Shiro’s question, face as neutral as could be as he nodded. “I’m fine,” he said. “Is something wrong?”

There had been a debriefing once Lance returned, mostly to discuss the plans for when they finally left the planet. When Allura asked Lance on the mercenaries’ progress, all he could say was that things were progressing as they should, the words out of his mouth as if on autopilot. The team seemed to wait for further explanation, but with the accompanying silence, Shiro had been the one to steer the conversation towards Voltron, effectively saving Lance from the task of making up more lies to save face. He didn’t miss the odd looks some of the members sent him, their slight concern becoming apparent when Shiro called out to him after the meeting when just the two of them remained. 

Shiro considered him for a moment, standing just a few feet away. He looked worried, his eyes boring into Lance’s as if he wanted to reach in and grab the answers for himself. “You just seem… off.” He finally said with a sigh.

Lance pursed his lips, fighting to keep his expression even. “I’m just tired, I guess.” He replied. He forced himself to smile for good measure. “I’ll be fine after I spend some quality time with my bed tonight. Don’t worry about it.”

Shiro didn’t look convinced, but he nodded all the same. “Alright. Don’t be afraid to talk to me if something’s bothering you, yeah?”

“Of course,” Lance waved a dismissive hand. “Thanks, bossman.”

* * *

To his credit, Lance was able to keep up his charade pretty well. He made it through the rest of the day quite easily, going through the routine as he added a quip here and there to keep anyone from getting too suspicious at his silence. It almost felt robotic, the way he forced himself to act normal as his mind struggled to catch up with what he’d encountered on the mercenary ship just hours ago. It felt surreal, like some fever dream that stuck with him even after he woke. He swallowed it all down and went about his day. 

By the time evening rolled around, Lance was drained from it all, wanting nothing more than to go to his room and take a long shower. He was on his way to do just that, halfway down the hallway when a different voice called out to him this time. Damn. Lance huffed out an irritated breath as his steps came to a slow. “Not in the mood, Keith.”

He turned to spot Keith come to a stop a few feet away, an unreadable expression on his face. He didn’t speak for a long moment, seemingly searching for words before he mumbled something to himself, running a harsh hand through his hair. “Look, you sure you okay?” He finally asked. “I know you talked to Shiro, but still… You’ve been acting weird.”

Huh. That was news to him. And here he thought he’d been acting completely normal. “I’m fine.” Lance sighed, ready to resume his trek to his room. He was exhausted, physically and mentally. “Can I go now?”

Keith’s eyes narrowed, unsatisfied. “Yeah, well, you’re not acting fine. Listen, if there’s something--”

“I said I’m _fine_ , Keith.” Lance snapped. He gave up on maintaining a neutral expression, an open scowl on his face. “If you want to pick a fight, I’ll take a rain check. I’m not up for it right now.” He turned around this time, ready to put an end to this conversation. Of all people, Keith was the last person he wanted to deal with at the moment.

“Lance, wait!” He heard Keith’s voice before a hand closed around his arm. It was hardly a strong grip, but the touch sent a nauseating chill up Lance’s spine. It was only then did he realize how much it terrified him when he was grabbed, the sensation too reminiscent of memories he wanted to bury away deep in his mind. Before he could even formulate a reaction, his body was already moving, quick to yank his arm away from the source, away from anything that could touch him. He must’ve pulled too hard; the motion sent him stumbling a few steps as he turned back around, eyes wide and breath caught his throat. 

Keith was frozen where he stood, his hand still hovering in the air where Lance’s arm had originally been. He looked stunned, caught off guard by such a harsh reaction. Lance couldn’t bring himself to break the silence, the blood rushing loud in his ears as he tried to think of an explanation, _something_ to get him out of this situation. 

“S-sorry,” Keith was the one to speak, his voice flustered. “I was just… I didn’t mean to--”

In the end, Lance couldn’t think of anything to say. He turned around and speed-walked the rest of the way to his room, grateful that Keith didn’t try and stop him this time. He walked without pause until he reached his bathroom, leaning over the sink as he shoved down the nausea that crawled up his stomach. 

“I’m fine,” he mumbled. “I’m fine.”

* * *

Lance woke up much earlier the next day, determined to leave the Castle before he ran into anyone. He had barely gotten any sleep, the fatigue doing little to stave off the temptation that urged him to stay in his room, inside the safety of the Castle walls. But he got up nonetheless, fueled by the sole fact that it would be his last day with them. Everything would be over after this. He wouldn’t see them again, not if he could help it. As he walked towards the ship, he realized that he’d get there earlier than usual. Would it matter? Maybe it was better this way. He could get it over with quicker.

When he arrived, the two didn’t seem quite thrown off by his early arrival. They ushered him in, wearing grins that made him wonder if he’d made the right choice at all. Lance took in a breath as he walked, ignoring the way it shook in his lungs. He didn’t lift his head once, even when they took him back to that familiar room and handed him another set of clothes for him to change into. He waited until they left, his hands tight around the thin fabric as he heard the door slide shut. 

God, he wanted to go back.

He changed and waited, nothing but silent dread accompanying him as he stood towards the opposite end of the door. It didn’t help that he had no idea _what_ they would do. All notion of that went out the window yesterday when they used the whip. It sent his thoughts in a frenzy, frantic in their attempts to figure out what sort of thing he’d be dealing with today. 

And when the door finally reopened, Lance could do nothing more but zero in on the syringe that casually dangled from Kyno’s hand as they stepped inside. He froze, back firm against the wall as he watched them draw closer, similar looks of anticipation in their faces.

“What… What’s in there?” Lance asked before he realized it, almost dizzy from the sight.

“Can’t tell you that,” Kyno simply said, reaching forward. “That would ruin the surprise. Consider it a gift to celebrate your final endeavor with us.”

It was reflex that had Lance pulling his arm away from Kyno’s grip, panic overriding the reality of his situation as he clutched his hands against his chest. “No,” he stammered. He knew disobeying would do nothing but anger them, but this? This was too much. “Not that. You can… You can hit me, but no injections.”

Luden was the one to react, his hand lashing out in an instant as he grabbed at the front of Lance’s shirt, forcefully pulling him to the ground. Lance barely caught his breath from the impact, scrambling onto his back in an attempt to push away when a hand pressed against his chest to keep him in place. Another hand grabbed at his wrist and held it straight against the floor with unnatural force. The position left him too vulnerable, and Lance felt his chest grow too tight, tears quick to form in his eyes. He hated crying in front of them. Absolutely hated it.

“Please, don’t,” Lance pleaded, his free hand digging into Luden’s arm. His fingers did nothing against their hardened skin, almost as if he were gripping at metal. Kyno leaned over, humming a tune under his breath as one hand stabilized the skin of Lance’s inner arm. “ _Don’t_ \--”

“I think you forget who’s in charge here, little one,” Kyno said. The needle pressed into Lance’s arm, and he choked out a sob as he felt something warm pass through the bevel, filling his veins. “Remember, you’re the one who agreed to this.”

* * *

Lance had no idea what it was that they’d given him, but he was certain it was nothing good. At first, nothing had happened. They’d released their hold on him and stood back, simply watching as he laid there, breaths harsh and eyes wide. Lance scrambled upright and pushed himself backwards until his back met the wall once more, one hand pressed over the injection site in an iron grip. He wanted to throw up. Truly, he did. 

It hit him suddenly. An uncomfortable warmth spread across his body, the sensation lingering in his chest before it burst like a fire, burning and scraping at his insides. It filled his lungs like smoke and choked out any air before he could fully take a breath. He slumped forward with a gasp, his hands digging into his chest as if he could pry a hole open for the air to enter. It hurt to breathe. It hurt far too much to breathe.

Something grabbed at his hair, pulling so that he was face-to-face with Kyno. He spoke, yet the words were inaudible past the pounding in Lance’s head. The hold loosened, letting Lance fall back onto the ground, his breaths now mere wheezes. Every nerve felt like it had been set aflame, even the slightest movement enough to send him on the verge of unconsciousness. He knelt there, arms trembling in their efforts to keep him upright. It felt as if he’d die right there.

Something caught in his throat, and he instinctively brought a hand up to cover his mouth. He realized too late that the gesture would destroy his center of balance, his one arm too weak in his current state. He crashed onto his side, head ringing as he continued to cough, the sensation scraping at his throat and threatening to choke him. Only when the fit passed did he open his eyes, his vision now blurry from the tears that spilled over. It took him a moment to process the scene in front of him. 

There was blood on the floor. Little splatters that painted the area just in front of him, so close some might even be on his face. The numb realization fell over him slowly as he glanced at his hand, coated with even more of his blood. Oh, so that was what the metallic taste in his mouth was. He let his hand fall in front of him, the slightest of laughs leaving his body even when the movement left him dizzy from the pain. 

Maybe he’d be dying after all. 

He wasn’t sure how long they left him there. All they did was watch, their feet always in his field of vision whenever he opened his eyes. It was an agonizing process, and he fought to stay as still as possible. Not that it mattered; the pain was nothing compared to his need for air, his brain fighting for oxygen with what little breaths he could manage. It was like an invisible hand closed around his throat, pressing harder with each minute that passed. He shuddered in another inhale, his fingers weak even as they scratched at his neck, desperate for any relief. 

The lack of air was leaving him disoriented, the room beginning to warp in a way he knew was unrealistic. He could barely react when something shook at his shoulders, the words a muffled mess to his ears. He struggled to make out the figure in front of him, trying to piece together colors and shapes in a way that made sense. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t move. All of a sudden, there was a glow near his face before his vision filled with purple. He didn’t have time to comprehend it before his body immediately sucked in a harsh breath, greedy to take in air the second his lungs opened up. He could breathe. He could _breathe._

Sound began to trickle back in as he laid there on his side, chest heaving as he took in all the oxygen he could manage. It was almost overwhelming, the way the blood seemed to rush through his body, granting him control over his senses once more. Even though he knew, he still chanced a look at his hand. As expected, the blood was gone, a mere fragment of his memory.

“Pity. I had hoped you’d last a bit longer.” Kyno said, his voice grating at Lance’s ears. “I suppose I gave you too large a dose at once.” 

Lance stiffened at his words, too afraid to react, too afraid to meet the mercenary’s eyes. He could only hope that they would leave him now that he was healed. That’s what they always did. But even now, they didn’t move, murmuring something amongst themselves that Lance couldn’t quite make out. Curiosity got the better of him and he glanced up in time to spot Luden hand Kyno another syringe, filled once more with the same yellow liquid he’d seen before. 

“No,” Lance said, terror cold in his blood as he tried to move away. “ _No,_ not again, I can’t--”

Kyno was indifferent, his free hand quick to grab at Lance’s wrist. He didn’t bother keeping him still this time, grabbing the syringe and plunging it almost haphazardly into his arm. That same warmth trickled through his skin and Lance almost wished he had fallen unconscious the first time. Maybe then he wouldn’t have had to go through this again. He was crying again, the tears a different warmth that tracked his cheeks. 

“Don’t worry,” Kyno whispered as Lance felt his body tear itself up from the inside once more. “It’s a smaller dose this time. We won’t let you die so easily.”

* * *

Lance couldn’t remember how he got back to the Castle. Surely, it was a sheer miracle that he did, the haze in his mind only clearing when he found himself in the Castle lounge. He glanced down, his armor on where it should be, his body moving like normal. He was fine, wasn’t he?

No matter how hard he tried, it was near impossible for him to recall anything that happened during the course of the second injection. It _hurt_ , he knew that much. The shock of it might have knocked him out before he could really go through the motions of it again. If that was the case, he was glad. He didn’t want to remember any of it anyways. It was over with now.

_“A pleasure doing business with you, Blue Paladin,” Kyno had sung as Lance left. “We’ll deliver the crystals before we leave tomorrow morning. It’s too bad we couldn’t stay longer to get better acquainted.”_

_“Well, who knows.” Luden replied. “Maybe we’ll cross paths again with another… offer on the table.”_

_Lance felt ill at the mere thought, his steps quick towards the exit as he heard their laughter trail behind him._

“Lance? You’re back early.” He didn’t hear Pidge come in, too lost in his thoughts to notice her until she was right in front of him. She seemed no better for wear, hair disheveled and bags heavy under her eyes, likely the result of another all-nighter. “How’d things go?”

Lance came back to himself quickly, glad Pidge was too busy rubbing at her eyes to notice the way he’d involuntarily tensed up. “Oh. Uh, fine. Things went fine. They’ll send the crystals tomorrow.” Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t gotten a look at the crystals since the first day. Had progress really been done on it? The thought that they could con him from the zynite after everything that had happened sent a whole new wave of dread crawling through his skin.

“Mm. That’s good.” Pidge mumbled, eyes half-lidded even as she reached up to give him a light pat on the shoulder. It took all of Lance’s willpower not to jerk away, his muscles tight in their efforts to stay still. “Good job. I’m gonna go take a nap.”

Lance watched her leave, unsure if the feeling in his stomach was relief or distress. He didn’t ponder on it, deciding he didn’t want to know the answer. He headed back to his room before he could risk running into anyone else, quick to change into his regular clothes before he crawled into his bed. He grabbed for the communication tablet on the dresser, typing out a quick message to Hunk that he was pretty tired and that he’d mostly stay in his room for the day. Hunk would understand. Lance had his days back in the Garrison, and Hunk had been great to accommodate him on days he wasn’t at his best. Hopefully he’d let the rest of the team know on his behalf.

He shut the tablet off before he pulled the blanket back over his head. The exhaustion swept over him like a wave, and he gave into it gladly. Even if it was for just a bit, he wanted to forget.

* * *

He awoke to a knock on his door. At first, he wondered if it had been a figment of imagination, and he sat up in bed, staring at the door until he heard another knock, this one a bit quieter. It was probably Hunk. He wasn’t sure how long he slept for, but the ache in his muscles from lying in one position told him it was long enough. “Hold on,” he mumbled as he got up, not bothering to turn on the lights as he went to open the door.

By the time his vision cleared enough, he blinked in surprise when he saw it was Keith who stood there instead. “... Keith.” Lance finally said and shifted uncomfortably. He hadn’t expected them to be talking so soon, not after what happened last night. Things would get awkward if Keith had come to demand an explanation. 

“Hey,” Keith said. Even though he had been the one to approach, he seemed the most thrown off by Lance’s appearance. He looked almost… guilty? “I just wanted to apologize… For yesterday.”

Lance stared, unsure if he heard right. “Apologize? For what?”

“I wasn’t trying to pick a fight or anything, I was just…” Keith shook his head, a frown on his face. “I didn’t mean to freak you out. I’m sorry.”

If anything, Lance was surprised. When was the last time they’d had a proper conversation? He’d been bracing himself for an argument or even an accusation. This was something he never expected. “It’s fine,” Lance said, gripping at the door frame. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you either.”

Keith stared at him for a moment longer, something uncertain in his gaze. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked. He sounded cautious with his words, picking carefully at the awkward silence that fell between them.

He was fine. He _should_ be fine. He wouldn’t see them again. 

“Yeah,” Lance said, his voice dry. “I’m okay.”

Keith looked ready to argue, but seemed to think better of it, pursing his lips as he gave a nod. “If you ever need to talk, I… I can always listen. Or anyone on the team. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.” He sighed and turned back towards the hall. “I’ll get going. Let me know if you need anything.”

For a moment, Lance could only watch at Keith’s retreating figure. A surge of desperation rose in his chest before he stepped forward, past the safety of his room to grab at the back of Keith’s jacket. His body moved before he realized it, and Lance hardly had any time to regret his actions when Keith turned around, a confused expression on his face. 

“Um,” Lance started, his face warm from embarrassment. “Can I… just hang in your room for a bit? I, uh…” He had no idea where the need came from, the need to be near people, people he trusted, but it gripped at him like a vice. In any other scenario, he would’ve gone to Hunk without a second thought, but he couldn’t today. No, once Hunk knew that something was wrong, he would stop at nothing to figure out the problem in order to fix it. And that was the last thing Lance wanted. Not when they were so close to completing the deal.

Keith stood in silence as Lance floundered for his words, surprise lingering in his eyes. When it became clear that Lance wouldn’t finish his sentence, he eventually nodded, gently stepping away so that his jacket fell free from Lance’s grip. “Sure. Let’s go.” He said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. He continued to walk, and Lance had to remind himself to follow, temporarily stunned at how easily the other had agreed to his odd request.

Yet once they reached Keith’s room, Lance found himself hesitating at the entrance, suddenly confused as to _what_ exactly it was he hoped to accomplish by coming here. What difference would it make? But at Keith’s pressing stare, Lance stepped inside, hands shoved inside his hoodie and head low. He sighed, heading for the bed and sitting on the floor next to it, back propped against the side of the mattress. Yeah, this might have been a mistake.

Keith lingered near the door, considering his next move, as confused by this turn of events as Lance was. “Should I leave?” He asked, uncertain.

“No,” Lance mumbled. He pulled his hands out of his pockets, opting to hug his legs and rest his head on top. “I’ll just sit while you do whatever. You can pretend like I’m not here.” He chanced a glance, the slightest bit of anxiety tickling his chest. “If this is too weird, I’ll go back and--”

“It’s fine,” Keith supplied quickly. He sighed, rubbing at his neck. “It’s almost dinnertime. I’m gonna go get some sandwiches. Do you want any?”

Lance stared at the floor, the answer obvious. He hadn’t eaten all day. He had to eat, whether he wanted to or not. “Yeah, actually.” He said. “Thanks.”

“Alright. Anything else?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Okay.” Keith paused, as if waiting for any last minute requests, before the door opened once more. “I’ll be back.”

When the doors closed shut, Lance buried his face into his arms with a groan. God, this was embarrassing. Why did he even ask to come here? He just wanted to be near people he knew, and he figured Keith would be the one to ask the least amount of questions. He was right, but it didn’t make this situation any less uncomfortable.

They’d be leaving this planet tomorrow. Kyno and Luden would deliver the crystals and he’d make sure to never come across them again. At least that’s what he hoped. He wanted to stop thinking about them altogether, but it seemed impossible. Even though he’d been healed, he could still feel the way the poison ripped at his body, the way the whip tore at his back, the way the fire burnt at his skin. He lifted his head, if only to take in a deep breath, a reminder that he was fine, that he could breathe. It shuddered in his lungs in a way that denied him the comfort he sought.

_He remembered waking up when Luden healed him from the second course of poison, his surroundings normalizing at a snail’s pace. He had been fast to move the instant he regained control of his body, jerking up as he held his arms tight against his chest, refusing to give them another opportunity. He wouldn’t be able to tolerate any more than this. It might drive him mad._

_Kyno merely smirked at his display and crouched before him as he shook his head. “Don’t worry, little one. It’s done with. You’ve played your role perfectly.”_

_Lance didn’t move, unable to relax. “The crystals?” He rasped._

_“We’ll be finished with them by the morning. The trade will be done as discussed.” He smiled and leaned closer. “I hope you don’t think that our… sessions should no longer remain a secret once the deal is completed. What was it they said - one must never reveal the tricks of their trade?”_

_Lance could only regard him with wide eyes. No, he’d never had the chance to really think about what would happen after the crystals were handed over. Technically, like Kyno said, there really was nothing stopping him from telling the team the truth of what had occurred. As late as it would be, at least they’d know never to interact with the duo again in the future. It was the logical choice._

_Kyno reached forward, his hand wrapping around Lance’s wrist. Lance hissed in a breath and tried to pull back, the mere touch enough to make him nauseous. Kyno clicked his tongue and used his other hand to grip at Lance’s hair and push him down, forcing him into a kneel. Lance was stiff with tension, his forehead just barely grazing against the cold floor, terror pounding in his chest._

_“What do you think your teammates would think if you were to tell them the truth?” Kyno’s voice was right near his ear, too loud and too close. “They would think you weak. Easily manipulated. Easily convinced.”_

_Lance trembled in his efforts not to move, conscious of the way Kyno still dug his fingers in his hair. “N, no, they wouldn’t--”_

_“They would,” Kyno said. “A Paladin of Voltron, willingly subjecting himself to such humiliation for a mere handful of crystals? Rare as they may be, one’s pride should be held in much higher regard, don’t you think? Especially for one who is supposedly a defender of the universe.”_

_No, they wouldn’t think that. They’d understand. They wouldn’t blame him._

_“You are weak,” Kyno pressed harder, forcing Lance’s forehead against the floor. “Luden and I could tell the moment we laid eyes upon you. It is why we chose you. Surely, you didn’t think you were special, did you?”_

_Lance’s eyes stung with tears, his breaths harsh in his throat. It choked at him, kept from speaking, kept him from thinking. There was nothing he could do but listen, Kyno’s words branding themselves in the back of his mind._

_No, he didn’t think he was special. He’d known that all along._

“-nce. Lance!” 

Lance startled, reality quick to seep back into his thoughts as he eyed the space in front of him. Right, he was in Keith’s room. He was in the Castle. He gripped at his legs, his thoughts running too fast for him to process. He was fine.

“Lance,” someone spoke. There was a bit of pressure on Lance’s arm, and as light as the contact was, he couldn’t stop himself from flinching. He looked over at where Keith now sat next to him, eyes heavy with worry. He had been quick to pull away at Lance’s reaction, his hand now hovering with nowhere to go. “Lance,” he repeated. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Lance said, his voice thin. It sounded odd, even to his own ears. “Nothing’s wrong.”

Keith lowered his arms, a frown on his face as he let his hand rest against his lap. He looked lost, completely out of his element. If he’d been in a better mood, Lance might have teased him for it. They both sat there and regarded each other, a silent battle that neither of them had the courage to break. It didn’t take long before Keith finally gave in, brows furrowed.

“Why are you crying?” Keith asked, voice quiet.

Lance startled at the question, suddenly much too conscious of the wetness that grazed at his face. He sucked in a breath and turned away to wipe at the tears, cursing himself under his breath. When the hell did he start crying? “Sorry,” he mumbled, ready to drown in his own embarrassment. “This isn’t…”

Keith shifted next to him, his feet scraping against the floor. “Should I get Hunk? He might be better at this than me.” 

“ _No_ ,” Lance said, his voice unintentionally loud in his efforts to deny the offer. He whipped around, hand quick to grab at Keith’s wrist before he could move away, effectively dragging him back onto the floor next to Lance. Keith let him, eyes wide at the outburst. “Just… stay here. I’m fine.”

Keith deflated at his words, expression still unconvinced. “I can’t help if I don’t know what’s bothering you.” He finally said, a gentle prod.

Lance kept his gaze on the floor, maintaining a loose grip on Keith in case he tried to leave again. “I’m just homesick,” he replied, the lie leaving his mouth a little too easily. “Happens once in a while. It’ll pass on its own.” Technically, he wasn’t really lying. He _was_ homesick. Always would be.

“Oh,” Keith said. He kept his arm relaxed, seemingly content with letting Lance hold onto it for as long as he needed to. “Is there anything I can do to help? I can’t do something like take you back to Earth, but…”

Lance shook his head, burying his face into his free arm with a sigh, his legs starting to ache in the position they maintained against his chest. “Just stay, please.” He said, the words muffled against his jeans.

Keith did, and although he’d never admit it, Lance was grateful for it.

* * *

As promised, a package had been sent to the Castle the next morning. Allura opened it carefully, the sealed box giving way to a bundle of shining crystals. They were a stark contrast from the dark color of the volcanic rock, the zynite a deep yellow that shone like the sun. Beautiful was an understatement to describe it. The excitement shone on both Allura and Coran’s face, their words of awe soon turning into words of praise for Lance’s efforts. The rest of the team had been quick to follow, full of congratulations to Lance on his achievement. All Lance could do was smile, filled with thin relief that the crystals truly had been delivered. He pointedly avoided Keith’s eyes, still too embarrassed over what happened last night, and he was glad the other made no point in bringing it up.

“Oh, Lance,” Allura said, a black object in her hand. “It’s a letter for you.”

Lance glanced at it, the ‘letter’ looking more like a rectangular sheet of cardboard. “A letter?”

“It’s a hologram message,” Coran was the one to reply, pointing at the white dot at the sat at the center of the card. “You press that button and it should appear.” He peered a bit closer, eyeing the silver writing that was etched at the top. “It reads ‘For the Blue Paladin’s eyes only’. Perhaps it’s a letter of thanks.” 

Lance stared at the card, his stomach tight at Coran’s translation. He took it from Allura, forcing a nonchalant shrug. “I’ll look at it later. Thanks.”

The card sat in his pocket for the rest of the day, its presence distracting enough that Lance hardly had the peace of mind to focus on whatever the team had to discuss. He didn’t pull it out again until he finally reached his room that night, tempted to throw it away or break it before he could even read the contents. He was sure they’d have nothing but empty words. But still, he hated to admit that he was curious.

He sat at the edge of his bed, contemplating for a long moment until he finally blew out a breath. Before he could hesitate again, he pressed the button, surprised to see the card light up, a beam of light projected from the middle. It gathered into a small screen that floated just above the surface, the images stabilizing as each speck of light fell into place.

It was a video.

He heard a voice, _his voice_ , seep from the card, loud and frantic. Lance sat there, horrified, watching himself on the screen as he struggled to pull away from the hands that held him down. The camera was from the perspective of another person watching on, and Lance spotted the lighter in their hands, the fire sparking to life when it was opened. 

_“Sorry, this is gonna hurt quite a bit.”_

Lance pressed the button, effectively shutting the video off before he threw the card across the room. He held a hand to his mouth, the whole of his body trembling when he realized what he’d just watched.

They filmed him.

They filmed everything.

He leaned forward, breaths shaky in their attempts to calm himself and not throw up. He felt dizzy from the shock, his heart threatening to crawl up his throat with the way it raced in his chest. It was fine. This was just their final warning to keep quiet. And he had no plans on going against it. All he could do was forget it, bury it in his memories and move on. The deal was done. He’d gotten what the team needed. 

_“You are weak”, Kyno had said._

Truly, he was.

After a long moment, Lance stood up, body numb as he left his room and walked down the hall. He was quick to knock when he reached his destination, no longer caring about any pretenses. It didn’t take long for Keith to open the door, the surprise only temporary in his eyes this time. Lance knew he looked terrible; he’d barely had time to collect himself before he left his room, moving before he even realized his intentions. Keith, to his relief, stepped aside without a word, the door closing behind them both with a solid thud.

Lance didn’t have the energy to be embarrassed. All he’d wanted was to get out of his room, away from that card. Just the thought of it had his stomach rolling in waves, the nausea left with nowhere to go. He swiped at his eyes just in case; he wouldn’t cry this time, definitely not.

“Homesick again?” Keith spoke quietly behind him. There was no exasperation or condescension in his tone like Lance expected, just concern. It was weird.

“I guess,” Lance said. He gripped at his jacket, the fabric rough against his skin.

It took a beat before Keith responded, this time more hesitant. “Did you.... Do you want a hug?”

The question was enough for Lance to turn around in surprise, almost certain he’d heard wrong. Turns out he hadn’t been. Keith flushed, a nervous hand running through his hair. “It’s just… I’ve seen Hunk do it a lot, especially when you were in a bad mood, so I thought…” He trailed off, eyes trained on the ground. 

Lance waited. Waited for Keith to take back his offer, leave the room, maybe even brush over the topic like he never asked the question. But he didn’t, only waited in the same manner that Lance did. It was an odd feeling, but Lance didn’t care. He was too tired to care.

He moved before he could second-guess himself, stepping towards Keith and wrapping his arms around to grab at the back of his shirt. He propped his forehead against the top of Keith’s shoulder, his breath a shaky exhale. He wanted to forget; he needed a distraction. He would lose his mind if he thought about it any longer.

Keith had tensed up at Lance’s hold, relaxing only after a few long seconds. He shifted slightly, hesitant in his movements before his hands came to rest against Lance’s shoulder blades, feather light. They patted at his back in an irregular rhythm, an awkward attempt at comfort that neither of them were familiar with. Lance only sighed, the faint scent of shampoo in the air as he tried to shut out the entire reason why he came here in the first place. He had braced himself for many things ever since he met the mercenaries, but the thought that they could have recorded it never even crossed his mind. It made him sick, to think that they’d looked through those recordings on their own, enjoying the results they produced. 

Lance felt the familiar sting of tears press against the back of his eyes, and he pressed his face further against Keith’s shoulder in an attempt to keep them at bay. He blew out a long breath, a forceful attempt to regulate his emotions. “Sorry,” he mumbled, voice thick with the tears he tried to swallow. “I’m sorry.” He didn’t know _what_ it was he apologized for, too wound up to think properly.

Keith’s hands froze for a moment before they resumed its odd tempo, his grip a bit firmer as he grew used to the situation. “It’s fine,” he said quietly. “Don’t apologize.”

It was much different from the hugs that Hunk gave, that was for sure.

But Lance found that he didn’t particularly mind this one either. 

* * *

Surprisingly enough, Lance made it a habit of stopping by Keith’s room in the evening, the occasional visit now a daily occurrence. Keith never complained and, like Lance had hoped, never asked many questions. It hadn’t been his intention, but staying alone in his room let Lance’s thoughts grow too loud. He would think too much, and thinking led to memories, and memories led to panic. It didn’t help that the card still lay in the corner where Lance had thrown it, the sight of it enough to send his thoughts haywire. He didn’t want to go near it, much less look at it. It was a routine they fell into, almost as if they’d become roommates without realizing it. Most of the time, Lance would simply relax on Keith’s bed and browse through his tablet as Keith did the same on his own. They would share conversation, little talks about Voltron or the Lions or random tidbits they found reason to have a debate over. It was comfortable, and that was all he needed. He found more energy to move throughout the day, act in the ways he used to, focus on the tasks at hand when necessary. He no longer felt the need to pull away when his teammates reached out towards him, his mind recognizing the fact that he was safe, they were safe. He started to feel better, finding a semblance of himself that felt like it had disappeared for some time. 

Things became a bit more difficult once the nightmares began. They were vivid, so much so that it almost became difficult to distinguish from reality even after he woke. He would be trapped in the ship, stuck with nothing but the chains that bound his wrists and those metallic hands reaching for his feet. He always woke in a cold sweat, heart threatening to pound out of his chest from the adrenaline. It chipped away at any sense of ease he’d started to develop since their departure from the planet, a constant reminder that he never really could escape. 

It was a particularly bad night when he awoke, the memories of a fire burning against his back. The heat crept up his arms, and even as he stared at the clean and intact skin, he couldn’t shake the terror that gripped at his core. He shuddered and crawled out of bed, body on auto-pilot. Even in the dark, the card was a monstrous presence, enough to suffocate him should he stay long enough around it. He just needed to get out of his room, away from anything that reminded him of it. 

As he made his way down the hall, he was suddenly glad Keith now left his door unlocked, having grown accustomed to Lance’s constant visits. He tried to be quiet as he entered, having no intentions on waking the other up. Just being nearby was enough for him. He was fine to simply sit near the bed until he calmed down.

He was halfway to his destination when the blankets rustled, a head peering past the fabric. “Lance?” Keith mumbled, voice still heavy with sleep.

Lance froze in his movements, the one word enough to jerk him out of his panic-filled rationalizations. All of a sudden, his actions seemed much too childish for someone of his age. This was a mistake. He gripped at the ends of his shirt, hoping he could turn and leave quietly. Maybe Keith’s sleep-drunk mind would convince him he was merely a figment of his imagination.

“Wait, Lance,” Keith said, more urgently when Lance stepped towards the door. He was halfway out the bed, eyes alert as he tossed the blanket aside. “Talk to me.”

Lance knew he shouldn’t, but he stopped anyway. He sighed, running a tired hand across his face. “It’s nothing. I had a bad dream and got a little confused. I’m okay.”

Keith said nothing as he closed the distance between them, sleep fully gone from his expression. He lifted a hand, but then thought better of it and held it out halfway instead. “Can I?” He asked. At Lance’s nod, he reached forward and carefully pulled him into a hug, this one a bit more natural and confident compared to their last one. 

It was a nice feeling, enough to have some of the tension leak away from Lance’s shoulders. He could get used to this. He leaned into the hug reflexively, giving himself a few seconds before he finally patted at the back of Keith’s shoulder. “I’m okay now, Keith. Really.”

“Did you want to talk about it?” Keith asked. He didn’t move from his position, the side of his head gentle where it pressed against Lance’s. He wouldn’t have minded continuing their conversation the way they were, but it was the middle of the night and this was just keeping the both of them up longer than they needed to. 

“Not really,” Lance said. He pulled away, suddenly exhausted. He didn’t even care about the likely chance that he’d be woken up by another nightmare. That was his own issue. “I’m tired. I’ll go back to bed.”

He turned to leave, only to stop short by Keith’s hand, which was still firm on his upper arm. “Sleep here,” he said, unfaltering even under the dumbfounded look Lance gave him. “You came here because you didn’t want to be alone, right? If it’ll help you sleep, then stay.”

Not for the first time in his life, Lance was rendered speechless. He never pinned Keith for the intuitive type, but sometimes it felt like the guy was able to see right through him. Lance couldn’t understand what brought on the shift in character, either. Besides the recent course of events, most of his talks with Keith ended in petty challenges or full out arguments. He was used to this sort of comforting behavior from Hunk, but Keith? Definitely not. “Where are you going to sleep, then?” He argued weakly.

“On the other side.” Keith said, his mind already set. “There’s enough space.” As if to prove a point, he crawled in the bed and situated himself against the far wall, the blanket still left partially unfurled. He pointed at the empty half, no longer asking. “Sleep.”

For a long moment, Lance stood there, full of disbelief. Keith was steadfast, practically glaring at him as he waited for a response, his look a silent challenge. Lance almost laughed as he shuffled into the bed, careful not to take up too much space. He pulled the blanket over him and stared at the ceiling, his mind a myriad of thoughts. “Sorry. I’ve been bothering you a lot these days.” He mumbled almost guiltily.

“Stop apologizing,” Keith said, voice firm. “I’ve told you I’m okay with it.” There was a rustle next to him, the movement subtle. “Look, I know something’s up, not just your homesickness. You don’t seem to want to talk about it, but if it’s getting bad enough that you’re having nightmares, then it… might help if you did. It doesn’t even have to be with me.”

Lance sighed, a tired sound. “Keith…”

“Just promise me you’ll tell someone if it gets worse than this. I don’t want to force you into anything, but the whole team’s been worried.”

The problem was that there was nothing _to_ help with. It was all repercussions, aftereffects that he had to deal with. The main problem in itself was gone, somewhere across the galaxy and away from the confines of the Castle. It was just him that dealt with the fear of his own memories, persistent in their attempts to drown him.

“Lance.” Keith said again, more pressingly this time.

“Okay,” He said, serious in his words. “I will.”

“Thank you,” Keith sighed, bed shifting a bit as he repositioned. “Wake me if you need anything, alright?”

Lance mumbled an affirmative, hands tight on the blanket that covered him. If even Keith felt the need to counsel him on his emotions, then maybe he might not be able to continue this charade. There wasn’t much he could do except figure out a way to cope, even if it meant dealing with his nightmares on his own in the hopes that they settled down. He just needed time. Time to heal, time to forget. 

Sure, Lance had been sincere when he made the promise, but that was only because he was sure he wouldn’t need to act on it.

After all, he didn’t want to imagine the possibility that things _could_ get worse than this. 

* * *

As it turns out, Lance was wrong.

It happened after the team had successfully subdued a Galra infiltration against a small village. After making sure things were safely in order, Coran found out that their planet was a well known area for vendors, filled with delicacies and material from all over the universe. Once the team had gotten word that there could be gadgets from Earth found there, it was a unanimous decision that they would be making a pit stop before they left. 

“Lance,” Hunk said, eyes ablaze with excitement. He held up a pouch in his hand, open to reveal a fine green powder. “Try it.”

Lance peered at it suspiciously as he pinched at a small portion. It looked odd, given its color, but he sprinkled the bits into his mouth anyways. The taste was immediate, and Lance gaped at the bag, eyes wide with surprise. “It’s sugar!” He said in awe.

“Sugar,” Hunk echoed with equal enthusiasm. He looked fired up as he turned back towards the vendor, ready to demand more for purchase. “Buckle up, because I’m gonna make some mind-blowing desserts tonight.”

Lance grinned and left Hunk to his bartering, his own curiosity leading him around the open market they’d come across. Sure enough, there were a multitude of objects up for sale that he’d never heard of, but his eyes were focused on finding things from Earth. As he moved along, he spotted the rest of the team members spread out in different sections of the market, all absorbed in whatever it was the respective vendors were showing them. It was a nice break for them.

He was busy eyeing a piece of fabric that looked suspiciously like jeans when someone tapped on his shoulder. He turned, surprised when he saw that it wasn’t Hunk, but rather a stranger. An alien stood there, nearly a whole foot taller as he wore an expectant expression on his face. Lance straightened up, more confused than anything. The alien was burly, his muscles more defined by the orange tone of his skin. His hair was a similar shade, short and sharp in a way that made his build all the more intimidating. Had they met before? Surely he would’ve remembered.

“Um,” Lance finally said, shifting uncomfortably at the other’s persistent gaze. “Can I help you?”

“You’re the Blue Paladin,” the alien responded, and Lance winced at the way his voice scratched at his ears. “Aren’t you?”

Despite it all, Lance put on a smile, one that he frequently donned when he spoke with civilians or others he didn’t know. “That’s me,” he said, more composed this time. “Did you need something? If it’s an autograph you want…” He glanced around for anything that could pass as paper, only to come up short. “Do you have something to sign?”

The alien didn’t seem to have listened to Lance’s words, too busy eyeing Lance with a look that was almost unnerving. “You’re much smaller in person.” He stated, more to himself than anything. He stepped closer, uncaring even as Lance took a step back in response. “Definitely quite fragile.”

“Uh,” Lance felt the smile slide off his face as he moved away, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. This felt weird, too weird for him. “I think I hear my teammate calling for me, so I’m gonna go. It was nice meeting you, too.”

He barely had time to turn when the other reached out and grabbed at Lance’s arm before he could run. Lance stiffened at the contact, his free hand whipping out to strike, no longer caring about diplomacy. The stranger seemed to expect it, and his other hand easily caught his wrist before it struck his body. The sudden restriction in his movement had panic crawl up his throat like bile. Nearby, he could hear the nearby vendor yelling something, maybe towards them, the words foreign and muffled against Lance’s ears. “Let go of me.” He managed, voice even.

“I’ve always wanted to meet you,” the alien said and smiled wide. “You look even better than the recordings.”

Lance felt his anger stop short, the stranger’s words enough to send his mind in a frenzy. “What the hell are you talking about?” No, he needed to calm down. It could be anything. He was overthinking it.

The alien pulled him closer, his gaze predatory. “Your recordings are quite popular, don’t you know? They go for a hefty price, but I won’t complain.” He laughed, the sound grating. “The drug that they’d given you in the third video is from my home planet. Quite the toxic substance, but I never would’ve imagined it being used on a Paladin in that way. It was quite the sight. You won’t know the thrill I felt when I recognized it.”

It was as if the floor had slipped out from Lance’s feet, the way the shock hit him. He froze, breath stuttering in his chest as he processed the words. No. No, no, no. This was all wrong. He’d heard it wrong. All of a sudden, the hands holding him felt too tight, too painful. He shuddered again and tried to pull away. “I said _let go_ ,” he said, uncaring of the way his voice shook. He needed to leave. He had to, or he might break down right then and there.

There was a noise behind him and Hunk suddenly appeared, quick to push away at the alien as a different pair of hands fell on his shoulders to pull him back. Lance stumbled at the sudden movement, held steady by whoever it was behind him. It felt as if he was watching the scene before him through a dirtied window, his vision threatening to give away with each passing second. Hunk was yelling, his face tight with anger even as the alien stepped back, hands up in appeasement.

“What’s your deal? He said to let go!” Hunk hissed, hands clenched at his sides. 

The alien didn’t seem too fazed by the appearance of others, his eyes only landing on Hunk for a moment before they went back towards where Lance stood. The smile never left his face. “Seems I got a bit over excited. I never expected to run into the Blue Paladin, after all. I’m a big fan.”

Lance felt his senses sharpen at the words, suddenly conscious of the fact that it was his team who had arrived. He spotted Pidge just in front of him, one arm still held out as if to keep Lance back and far away from the threat. He couldn’t tell who it was behind him, but that didn’t matter right now. “Stop,” Lance said, voice tight in his panic. Hunk and Pidge turned to look at him, confusion in their expressions, but Lance only looked at the stranger, too panicked to think about anything else. “Stop talking.”

The silence was heavy, so thick it was suffocating. But soon enough, a larger smile crept along the stranger’s face, amused as he realized the meaning behind Lance’s words. “They don’t know, do they?”

Lance trembled, and he felt the hands behind him tighten with worry. “I said _stop_.”

“This just gets more and more interesting,” the stranger laughed, tilting his head. “Why don’t I share my recordings with your team? Who knows, maybe they’ll find them--”

From the side, Shiro stepped forward, his right arm already glowing purple. He looked no less angry than Hunk, his jaw tight with tension as he walked until he was directly in front of the stranger. Even with the height difference, Shiro seemed to be the one who commanded a sense of control. “He said to stop.” Shiro said flatly. He raised his right hand for good measure. “I think it’s best if you leave. Now.”

The stranger stepped back at Shiro’s approach, his gaze a bit wary as he seemingly recognized who it was that stood before him. It didn’t take long before he finally stepped away, a satisfied look on his face even as he did so. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Blue Paladin.” He called as he walked away, waving a hand over his shoulder.

It was only until the stranger had completely disappeared that the tension left Lance in a wave, his mind too strung taut to focus. He didn’t remember falling to the ground, unable to even regulate his breaths properly as the reality of the situation sunk in. Suddenly, it all made sense. It hadn’t just been for their own entertainment. Once the crystals were gone, they would need another way to profit, and it had been him. 

They sold the recordings of him.

Lance felt himself choke on a sob, his hands unsteady as he tried - and failed - to grip at the edges of his chestplate. He needed it off, the armor too tight and making it near impossible for him to catch his breath. After a few attempts, he finally gave up, opting to curl further into himself instead. He felt sick. He really did.

“Lance,” a voice said, muffled and distant. “Lance, can you hear me?”

Someone was talking to him. He couldn’t tell who. Everything seemed so distorted, shapes warped even as he looked around him. All he could make out were distant figures, some near and some further back. They were looking at him. Lance ducked his head, hands grabbing at his hair. “Don’t--” he started, only to cut short. He couldn’t breathe properly, much less speak. Don’t look at him. Don’t look at him. He wanted to scream, wanted to chase them all away and lock himself in his room. There were too many. 

How many had seen the videos of him?

How many would do the same as that stranger did today?

There was a brush of cold air against his face, his surroundings substantially brighter as fingers carded through his hair in an attempt to loosen the grip he still maintained on it. “Lance.” It was the same voice, clearer this time. “Look at me.” Lance glanced upwards, shapes normalizing in a way that helped him recognize Hunk. “Listen, buddy, you need to take some deep breaths, alright?”

Lance tried, he really did. But he couldn’t focus, couldn’t think about anything other than the horrifying reality that threatened to crush him. “I can’t,” he whispered, the tears messing up his vision once more. “I can’t do it.”

“You can,” Hunk said, confident. “Follow me and breathe. You can do it.” He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t. Hunk’s brow furrowed and he leaned in, so close that their foreheads touched. The grip he had on Lance’s head was as careful as it was firm. “ _Look at me_ , Lance. Just follow my lead.”

It took a few tries before Lance managed to keep up with the steady pace Hunk started, each inhale as slow as the exhale. Lance had been thrown off by the sudden proximity, his brain automatically following his friend’s words in its confusion. By the time Hunk trailed off in his demonstration, Lance’s chest had loosened enough for him to orient himself. He gulped in another breath as Hunk leaned back, enough for him to realize they were now in the Castle, sitting on the floor of the med bay. 

“Lance,” Hunk pressed, urgent. “Tell us what’s going on. Please.”

Even still, Lance shook his head, his heart threatening to pound out of its chest. They couldn’t know. He didn’t _want_ them to know. “I can’t,” he whispered, afraid to speak too loudly.

“Why?” Hunk looked pained as he spoke, a desperation in the way he kept his grip on Lance’s hands, which now lay in his lap. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”

Lance couldn’t move, strung taut with the stress. He didn’t want this to happen. He didn’t want Hunk looking like that. He could feel the way his resolve began to crack, each broken piece digging a hole in his chest until it threatened to burst. He sat there, breaths harsh through his lips as he watched Hunk, who looked as distraught as he felt. 

“Let us help you,” Hunk said, eyes glistening. “We’re best friends, Lance. Don’t do this to me.”

It was as if a dam broke, the stress and fear bursting its way out of Lance as he bent over and cried. He cried and cried, even as Hunk gathered his arms around him and held him close, his body trembling with tears of their own. There was no way for him to stop, even when he knew this was the last thing he wanted to do in front of the others. He couldn’t do it anymore. Deep down, it had always been there, the temptation to reach out for help. He wanted someone to pull him out of the hell he’d created for himself. But the fear had won out, fear of what his team would think, fear of rejection, the paranoia leaving him trapped in a corner with no way out. 

“ _Weak,” Kyno echoed._

He was. But it didn’t matter. 

He just wanted to move on and forget.

By the time his tears had ended, Lance’s body felt limp, completely drained of any energy. Hunk didn’t let go even as he quieted, and Lance was grateful for it. As uncomfortable as it felt against the tough surface of the Paladin armor, he kept his head against it, too weak to even pull away. He didn’t think he’d ever cried so much in his life. 

“Lance,” Hunk murmured, his voice gentle as he shifted just a bit, as if to get a better look at his face. “You alright?”

Lance nodded weakly, his head still hung low as Hunk pulled away to provide more space between them. Hunk kept his hands on Lance’s shoulders, a steady grip that more than likely was the only thing keeping Lance upright. He shut his eyes as he blew out another breath, bracing himself for what was to come. 

There was a presence next to him, waiting for his attention. Lance gave it a few seconds before he finally forced himself to meet Keith’s gaze. Contrary to what he expected, Keith didn’t look upset. He just looked… sad. It was an unexpected look on him. Keith didn’t reach out to touch him, only stared until he was sure Lance was listening. “You promised me, Lance.” He said, not in an accusing way. His voice was quiet, so low that only he and Hunk might have caught the words. 

Lance turned his gaze back to the floor, unable to deny it. There was no way he could hide it from them at this point. He’d already missed that chance back at the marketplace. He’d have to tell them. Everything that happened. He knew it, but he hated it all the same. Simply turning the words over in his head was enough to make him nauseated; he couldn’t fathom how he’d be able to retell it out loud.

“Okay,” he said, voice hoarse. Hunk’s grip tightened just a bit on his hands, reassuring in their manner. Lance didn’t need to look around to know the rest of the team was behind him. He was fine with that, since he didn’t have the courage to meet any of their eyes anyways. He tried again, speaking a bit louder this time. “I’ll tell you.”

And so he did. Lance kept his gaze on the ground the entire time he talked, conscious of the way he knew everyone was watching him. He forced himself to talk without pause, sure that he wouldn’t be able to continue if he faltered at any point. He was aware of the way Hunk’s grip tightened as he spoke, his hands wrapped around Lance’s almost painfully. Even still, he kept talking until he was done, the anxiety in his stomach reaching full peak at the ensuing silence. No one spoke, no one moved at all. Lance didn’t dare be the one to break it, drained as he was from his retelling of events.

“How--” Hunk was the one to speak, his voice cracking. “Lance, you shouldn’t have let them do that to you. You shouldn’t have.”

Lance pursed his lips, unused to Hunk speaking at him with such a tone. He sounded mad. Really mad. “The deal…”

“If it meant hurting you, then none of us give a damn about the deal,” Hunk pressed on heatedly. “No amount of crystals are worth that Lance, I don’t care how rare they are.”

“I didn’t want them to target you guys either,” Lance said, a tremor in his voice. “I told you, they said that if I refused, they would go after another Paladin, and I didn’t want--”

“ _Lance.”_ Allura’s voice cut through his words, ice cold. Lance flinched at the sound, breath caught in his throat as he heard her footsteps come closer and closer until she bent down next to Hunk. “Look at me, Lance.”

He did, shrinking back at the anger that burned in her eyes. “I understand you mean to protect the team, but you are also one of its Paladins,” she said. As she spoke, she reached out a hand to cup at his cheek, her touch gentle even amidst her stern tone. “As much as you care for our well-being, we feel the same way for yours. If your safety or health is threatened, you come to us, and we work together to solve it. It is not weak to ask for help. Is that not what a team is?”

Lance swallowed, unable to look away. Any argument he had seemed to dry up in his throat before it could form, and he found himself at a loss. She was right. He knew it, and he didn’t know what to do about the fact. In the end, he nodded, pressure building at the back of his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words trembling.

There was a hand on his back, careful and gentle enough just to make Lance aware of its presence. “If you’re sorry,” Shiro said, “then you won’t do something like this again, okay?” Lance nodded again, and he felt Allura move her hand away in time for Shiro to pull him into a small back hug. “I’m sorry this happened. Thank you for telling us. We’re gonna fix it.”

Lance knew he didn’t deserve it, but he let himself relax against Shiro, appreciating the support it gave him. As relieved as he was about the truth being out, it left him drained to the point where he felt numb. It was as if he’d gone and used everything he had, nothing but a husk of himself remaining in its stead. What was there to fix? The damage had been done, the scars left behind.

“Is there a way we can track those two mercenaries down?” Keith asked, voice hard. “If we can get them, we can stop them from selling those recordings.”

“Since they’re travellers, it might be tough to pinpoint their location easily,” Pidge spoke from somewhere nearby. Lance turned to look, but a hand fell against his arm before he could, small and determined in its grip. “I need to find a way to disable the recordings that were already sent out, too. We should track down that guy from the market, get his copy. If they all share the same transmission data, I might be able to mess with the code and make any copy unviewable.”

“Then let’s go.” Hunk said, loosening his grip on Lance’s hands as he moved to stand. “We gotta get him before he leaves the planet.”

“I have one,” Lance cut in, voice flat. The others paused, all eyes back on him at his words. He sighed, ignoring the ache he felt at the admission. “I have a copy.”

Coran let out a small noise of surprise before anyone could demand an explanation, his voice a bit further back where Lance couldn’t see. “The hologram message they sent you…?” There was nothing more to be said, the rest of the team easily able to realize the implication of his words. 

Hunk deflated, his expression dismayed as he looked back at Lance. He bent down, none the more pleased about being the one to ask. “Where is it?”

“My room.”

“Can we… Is it alright if you give it Pidge? So she can try and track the other copies?”

Lance nodded, already having accepted the fact. They knew everything, anyways. There wasn’t much he could say at this point. He pushed himself up and staggered to his feet, even as it felt like his legs would give away at any moment. “I’ll go get it.”

Shiro was quick to follow, his hand steady as it held onto Lance’s elbow. “I’ll walk with you,” he said, turning to look over his shoulder as they left. “It might be better if we regroup in the lounge instead of here.” The others let out a murmur of agreement, and Shiro gave a firm nod as the doors shut closed.

Their walk was silent, something Lance was glad for. He could only focus all of his concentration on keeping straight as they headed down the hallways, completely burnt out from the day’s events. When they entered the room, Shiro didn’t need to ask where the card was, a frown touching his face when he spotted it on the floor. He sat Lance on the bed before he went to pick it up, not sparing it another glance as he walked back and knelt in front of where Lance was perched at the edge. 

“What do you wanna do?” He asked, face softening as he met his gaze.

Lance blinked, his eyes already starting to shut once he felt the familiar spring of his mattress. “I wanna nap,” he mumbled, halfway there. “Really tired.”

Shiro smiled. “Okay. Make sure to change out of your armor first so you’re more comfortable.” He rested a hand on top of Lance’s knee, pondering before he continued. “You’ve been through a lot, kiddo. I don’t like that it happened in the first place, but I’m glad we can at least help you with it now.”

Lance nodded, a large part of him warming at the leader’s words. It was a foreign feeling, one that he hadn’t felt in a while. It was nice. “Me too,” he said quietly.

Shiro gave his knee one last squeeze before he stood up, concern still on his face. “Let us know if you need anything, alright? Get some rest.” And with that, he left, not without a few more glances behind his shoulder. Lance waited until the door slid shut, and felt his body instinctively lean into the bed. He wanted to sleep, but Shiro was right. The armor was uncomfortable. It took a long time for him to change, his body sluggish as he slid into his pajamas. He hardly remembered his head hitting the pillow before his eyes fell shut, sleep quick to overtake him.

He woke some time later, not fully rested, but enough to let him function. He rolled over with a groan, hand blindly reaching out for the tablet on the dresser to look at the time. He’d only been out for a few hours. It must be around evening now. He sat up, not quite awake as he rubbed at his eyes. What were the others doing?

His eyes drifted back to the corner of his room, at the now-empty spot on the ground where the card had been. Did they see it? He figured they had. He had already braced himself for it when he handed the card over, but the idea of it left him feeling odd, uncertain of how they would take it. 

He wondered if Keith saw it.

Lance paused, thrown off by the sudden thought. Why was Keith the one that came to mind? But, after a moment, it made sense. After all, Keith had been the one helping him the most before things fell apart. It was surprising how close they’d gotten, given the nature of their usual relationship, but Lance found himself liking this dynamic a lot more. 

With that in mind, Lance finally got up, not bothering to change as he headed towards Keith’s room. When he stepped inside, he found it empty, the lights flickering to life once he entered. Maybe the others were still talking, or he’d gone to train, or he went to eat. Lance shuffled over to sit on Keith’s bed anyway, grabbing at the blankets as he wrapped it around his lower body. He’d gotten used to Keith’s room, finding comfort in the slight scent of shampoo, the peaceful stillness, just the aura it gave off. It was weird, how things had turned out.

Lance sat there for some time, fiddling with the blankets as he let his mind wander off. Not long after, he looked up to the hiss of a door as Keith stepped inside, one hand still wiping at his hair with a towel. He must’ve taken a shower after training. It took a moment before Keith noticed his presence, his eyebrows raising in surprise before his face fell into something a bit more somber. Lance only watched quietly as Keith walked towards the bed - towel now abandoned on the floor - and crawled on top of the mattress to pull Lance into a hug, his face buried in the crook of Lance’s neck.

Lance only let the surprise linger for a second before he relaxed into the hold. “Did you watch it?” He asked, unable to stop himself. Keith didn’t reply, only tightening his grip, but his silence was answer enough. The others probably saw it as well, then. He reached out and rested his hand on Keith’s hair, the locks still damp. “I’m okay, Keith.”

“You’re not,” Keith finally said, voice tight. He pressed his head further against Lance’s shoulder. “Stop saying you are.”

Lance thought for a moment before he replied. “Fine, you’re right.” He let his fingers card a bit through Keith’s hair, slightly amazed at how soft it felt. “I’m not, but I will be.”

Keith seemed more satisfied with that response, sighing as he loosened his hold and sat back. He eyed Lance carefully, worry still blatant in his expression. “Want me to get you something to eat?” He asked, halfway out the bed as he spoke.

Lance shook his head, and Keith relaxed back onto the bed. He’d eaten much earlier in the day, but he still didn’t find himself hungry. Maybe it was just the stress of it all. “I’ll eat in the morning,” he said. “I just wanna rest.” It was ironic; he’d just barely woken up from a nap, but here he was ready to sleep again. Something about Keith’s room seemed to have that relaxing effect on him. 

“Do you wanna sleep here tonight?” Keith asked, even when the answer was obvious.

Lance nodded. He wondered how long Keith would be lenient with the way Lance monopolized his room and attention, but he’d appreciate it for as long as he could.

* * *

Pidge was the first to tackle him with a hug when he entered the dining hall the next morning, her eyes red and puffy. “Don’t do something like that again,” she said, voice muffled against the front of Lance’s shirt. “I’m serious. I’ll get really mad.” 

Lance glanced up at where Hunk stood a few feet away, his expression just as stern as he nodded along with Pidge’s words. He sighed, ruffling at Pidge’s hair. It was a gesture she normally hated, but she didn’t seem to mind this time, only hugging him harder. “I know.” He said, a small smile on his face. “I won’t.”

Pidge leaned back, glaring at him. “Promise me.”

Lance huffed out a laugh and raised his hands in a surrender. “I promise. I know better than to anger you, Pidge.”

She nodded, satisfied as she stepped back for him to walk. The others were seated at the table, their expressions ranging from mild amusement at the interaction to just plain concern. Lance sat down, fiddling with his spoon before he dug into his food. He’d been starving when he woke up that morning, as expected.

“Pigde says she was able to track down the locations of the other copies,” Allura said once everyone was seated. She tapped at the table, restless even as she spoke. “She also found a large cluster of them in an area far across the galaxy, and we can only assume that is the location of the mercenaries’ ship.” 

“I disabled all of them,” Pidge said simply, expression sour at the mention of the duo. “Hacked into their ship’s power supply and data system, too. They’re gonna have trouble moving and trading freely for a while.”

Lance was quiet as they spoke, his eyes trained on the bowl of goo in front of him as they continued to talk. It was good news, yet he still felt uneasy hearing it. It wasn’t like there was much of a justice system up in space, so he would have to take the small victories. He glanced back up, meeting Pidge’s eyes easily. “Thanks, Pidge,” he said, sincere in his words. “Really. I appreciate it.”

“Of course,” Pidge huffed, although she wore a slight smile at his words. “They had it coming.”

“They’re dead the next time we come across them,” Hunk muttered under his breath, a dissatisfied expression on his face. He stood up, empty bowl in hand as he went towards the sink. “I don’t care what anyone says, I get dibs on first punch.”

“I get the next one,” Keith said easily, handing his bowl to Hunk as he passed by. Shiro, Pidge, and Allura were quick to chime in, the conversation devolving into a strange argument over the order on who would get to punch the mercenaries first, and Lance almost laughed at the sight. A part of him wondered why he felt the need to hide this from the others in the first place. He had a great team, after all.

It was a start.

* * *

Recovery, as expected, wasn’t an easy process. While Lance grew comfortable within the perimeter of the Castle, surrounded by people he trusted, it was a different story when he stepped outside. Even when it was for diplomatic meetings that guaranteed a small audience of peaceful allies, Lance couldn’t shove down the paranoia that overwhelmed him, distracted by the possibility that one would recognize him again. He grew tense whenever anyone so much as glanced in his direction, terrified at the prospect of being called out.

The team realized the fact pretty quickly, understanding of his situation without having to ask. All of them, Keith especially, would hover nearby, casual in their movements even as they kept an eye on anyone who strayed too close. Lance was too focused on watching the ground to even be embarrassed at the fact that he needed to be guarded, overtly conscious of the whispers that followed behind them as they passed.

While it was nothing too difficult to do for the others, Lance still felt terrible after the fact, knowing that his behavior didn’t do much to help the reputable image that the Paladins of Voltron was supposed to have. He’d pulled aside Shiro and apologized for it after the first time they’d gone out, his voice still shaky from the anxiety that latched onto his frame. Shiro would have none of it, his grip firm on Lance’s shoulders as he bent down to meet his eyes.

“The fact that you went outside is already a brave thing in itself,” Shiro said, a reassuring smile on his face. “It just takes time. We’ll help you every step of the way.”

Lance shook his head. “But--”

“No but’s.” Shiro was firm, and gave him a quick hug. “You’re doing great, Lance. Don’t tell yourself otherwise.”

Lance swallowed down the argument he had, knowing it would fall on deaf ears. He let himself indulge in the hug as much as Shiro did; hugs from the leader were rare, and he had to admit they felt pretty comforting. “What if it takes a long time?” Lance mumbled.

“It doesn’t matter,” Shiro said easily. “Take as long as you need. You’re gonna be okay.”

For once, Lance believed him.

* * *

Lance awoke with a startle one night, eyes wide as he sucked in a breath and struggled to figure out the noise he’d heard. He looked around, frantic, until he spotted the person in front of him, and he settled back against the bed with a sigh. “Keith,” he said, quiet.

Keith stared at him, one arm propping him up as he frowned. “Sorry to wake you. You looked like you were having a bad dream.” He relaxed back onto the bed, laying on his side so that they still faced each other. “Did you wanna talk about it?”

Lance frowned, his brain working as it tried to think back to the moments prior. “I don’t… really remember anything.” He said. “It was just dark.” All he remembered was feeling terrified of something, something he couldn’t see or hear. It wasn’t often that he had such dreams, but those were no better than the vivid ones that consumed all of his senses. He gripped at the pillow under him, a sense of guilt poking at his conscience. “Don’t you get tired of this?”

Keith raised an eyebrow. “Of what?”

“Of me,” Lance said, frowning. He spoke quieter, almost afraid to hear the answer. “Dealing with me.”

It wasn’t a crazy thought. Keith, by far, had been the one to interact with Lance the most throughout the course of the past few weeks. He would go to Hunk more often now that they all knew, but Lance found himself used to hanging around Keith. Hunk was more of the spoiling type, and Keith was the type who gave Lance some space, nearby but not too far for when he was needed. It was comfortable, a safe haven where he could relax and let his thoughts wander. But while it was nice for him, he had no idea how Keith felt with the sudden change in their relationship.

Keith moved then, reaching out to tug out one of Lance’s hands from under the pillow. “I do this because I want to,” was all he said, his thumb tracing across Lance’s knuckles. It was a light touch, so much so that it tickled a bit.

“Why?” Lance asked, unable to help himself.

Keith pondered the question, his hand careful as it fell on top of Lance’s, staring at it as if trying to memorize its shape. “Can I ask a question before that?” Lance nodded, not trusting himself to speak just yet. “Why me?” He looked up, elaborating when he caught the confused expression on Lance’s face. “I meant it when I said I don’t mind helping, but I always wondered why you came to me, of all people.” He shrugged, more to himself than anything. “I thought you hated me.”

Lance sighed, his hand feeling far too warm where it lay under Keith’s. “I don’t hate you, I just… I dunno, felt like I had to be better than you at something. Prove myself or whatever.”

“Prove yourself to who?” 

“Everyone,” Lance said, his mind trailing back off to the days back on Earth, the events feeling so distant. “Even after you left the Garrison, they never stopped talking about your achievements, your natural talent and stuff. I guess it got to my head. I just wanted to beat you at _something_ so that I’d feel good enough. Everything felt like a competition for me when it came to you. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Keith murmured. His thumb trailed off, running along the inside of Lance’s palm this time. It was a strangely intimate gesture, and Lance had half a mind to pull his hand away, if only to get rid of the ticklish feeling that kept spreading through his chest. He didn’t though, wondering just what it was that ran through Keith’s mind at the time.

“At first, it was because I knew you wouldn’t ask too many questions,” Lance admitted, almost sheepishly. “I knew I couldn’t go to Hunk because it’s almost impossible for me to hide things from him. My mind was a mess back then, and I just needed someone to… be there.” He curled his hand inward a bit, the tips of his fingers just barely grazing against Keith’s. “Feels comfortable in your room. Like I can breathe.”

For a long moment, Keith didn’t speak. He continued his movement along Lance’s hand, almost as if mesmerized by the sensation. There was an unreadable expression on his face, his eyes trained on their hands like he could see nothing else. Lance let his head fall further against the pillow and wondered if they would simply drift back off to sleep like this.

“You’re the best shot on our team, Lance.” Keith finally said, voice low. He traced further down, along the inner part of Lance’s wrist. “That’s already one thing you can beat me at.”

Lance blinked, thrown off by the statement. “Um, I guess. But that’s--”

“You’re good with people.” Keith talked even amidst Lance’s interruption. “I’ve never cared much for making friends, nor was I good at it, but you draw others in without even trying.” He pressed his finger gently against Lance’s wrist, as if feeling for a pulse. “You’re loud, never afraid to speak your mind when you need to, especially when you’re trying to keep people from making reckless decisions.” A ghost of a smile touched his face. “People like me.”

It was strange, the flurry of emotions that built in Lance’s chest. They filled him with a sense of wonder, fascination, confusion, all trapped with nowhere to go. All he could do was look and listen, his throat tight with something he couldn’t describe.

“You care, almost too much sometimes.” Keith continued, oblivious to the way Lance had gone still. He moved his hand back up towards Lance’s, this time letting their fingers interlock in a loose grip. Only then did he finally look away to meet Lance’s eyes, a softness to his expression that he’d never seen before. “You fight to protect the people you care about, and even then, somehow, you think you’re not enough. You’ve always been enough, Lance.”

All of a sudden, Lance felt much too fragile, too overwhelmed with something that was beyond his comprehension. He felt himself grip at Keith’s hand, breath hitching when Keith squeezed back. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to _think_. This was all too foreign to him.

“You…” Lance started, sounding more vulnerable than he’d ever felt. “You still have to answer my question.”

The corner of Keith’s mouth twitched in the faintest of smiles. “It’s because I care about you.”

Lance swallowed, the sensation dry against his throat. “As a friend?”

Keith watched him carefully, as if gauging his reaction. “If that’s what you want,” he said gently. There was no pressure in his voice, no accusations. Just patience. One thing that Lance had none of at the moment.

Lance had no idea where his sudden burst of confidence came from, the sensation all but consuming him as he asked, “And if I want it to be more than that?” He gripped at Keith’s hand like a lifeline, wondering if they’d ever be able to do something like this again. Maybe he’d spoken too soon, assumed where he shouldn’t have. But he had to know, or else he was sure he’d regret it.

Keith’s eyes widened by a fraction, surprise flashing for just a split second. When he pulled his hand away, Lance felt something in his chest threaten to shatter, but then Keith reached back, shifting closer as his arm wrapped around Lance’s back to pull him in. They were chest to chest now, Lance’s head pressed against the curve of Keith’s collarbone. Lance felt his heart stutter to stop before it restarted once more, his mind racing as it tried to process the situation.

“This okay?” Keith asked, his face nuzzling the top of Lance’s head. He’d managed to slide his other arm underneath Lance’s neck, the leverage allowing him to tug Lance even closer. 

Lance huffed out a tiny breath at that, a tentative hand wrapping around Keith’s waist. It was warm, way too warm when they were this close. But he didn’t want to pull away, desperate to keep it near him no matter what. He wondered if Keith could feel the way his heart threatened to pound out of his chest. “Yeah,” he managed, breathless. This seemed unreal.

Keith hummed, a satisfied noise as he relaxed under Lance. “Get some sleep. We can talk in the morning,” he said, simple as that. Lance could only nod, his face brushing against the fabric of Keith’s shirt as he listened to the steady rhythm of Keith’s heartbeat. Lance wasn’t sure if he should be impressed or annoyed at how quickly Keith fell asleep, the rate of his breathing easily evening out as he dozed off. He opted to savor the moment a bit longer, just listening and feeling the way Keith kept a firm grip on him even while he slept. 

As he began to drift off, he realized that for the first time in a while, he wasn’t afraid to fall asleep. 

* * *

The next time Lance woke, it was to fingers that carefully carded through his hair, each movement slow and controlled, as if they had all the time in the world. Lance grumbled, forcing his eyes open as he peeked up from where he laid, muscles sore from maintaining their position for so long. Keith looked down at him, innocent as he continued his trek through Lance’s hair, a slight smile on his face when their eyes met. “Hey,” he said, his morning voice enough to push away the last of Lance’s sleep.

Lance coughed and looked away, face flushing when he realized he’d only burrowed his face further against Keith’s chest. Even still, he didn’t move, his heart slipping back into a faster tempo as Keith continued to brush at his hair. “You technically never answered my last question,” he said, his small attempt to regain control of the situation. It was childish, he knew, but his emotions were frayed, giving him no chance to think properly. Not when Keith was holding him like this.

He heard Keith laugh, the noise rumbling across his chest. “I figured this was answer enough,” Keith replied as he nudged Lance a bit closer, his lips brushing against the top of Lance’s head. It was so subtle Lance might have missed it, had he not been so conscious of every move that Keith made. The action threatened to set Lance aflame, and he finally scrambled upright, his face burning. 

“I’m gonna go wash up,” he said, one hand reflexively covering the part of his head that Keith had barely kissed. It was like he could still feel it, the ghost of something that pressed at his very core. “I’ll see you at breakfast.”

Keith didn’t move from his spot on the bed, mild amusement dancing behind his eyes as Lance floundered for words. He smirked - Lance hated that he found that endearing - and sat up with a nod. “See you at breakfast,” he echoed, an indescribably fond look in his eyes. Lance all but ran out the room, wondering just how he managed to survive the night without his heart stopping.

* * *

Things definitely changed after that night. Keith, especially. He grew bolder, that was for sure, acting in ways that Lance never had the courage to do. While they maintained their normal composure throughout the day, things were more relaxed once they were alone in Keith’s room. Lance grew used to lying in Keith’s lap as he took a nap, content with the way Keith would run his hand through his hair, always gentle whenever he did. On other days, Keith would simply hug Lance against his front, chin propped up against Lance’s shoulder as they both browsed whatever it was on his tablet. It was the little things, subtle gestures that always dictated they stay as near each other as possible. 

While his nightmares grew scarce as time passed, they never completely went away. He’d have bad nights, ones where he’d wake up screaming, body wracked with tremors as he relived the memories from the ship, burnt into his mind like a fresh scar. True to his word, Keith never failed to console him, quiet as he murmured words of reassurance in his ear, hands working to loosen the tension in Lance’s clenched fists. 

“You’re alright,” Keith would whisper once Lance managed to calm down. He pressed his lips briefly against Lance’s forehead as he brushed away a few stray locks with his hand. Then he pulled back, wiping at a few stray tears on Lance’s face before he leaned in and kissed those away too. Lance took in a shaky breath, unused to the way his heart swelled at the gesture, his chest warm as they laid back down and found comfort in each other’s arms.

Despite it all, Lance found himself at a loss for what exactly their relationship was. While he was sure there was _something_ , neither of them had really given a proper confession. It had been more of a vague exchange of rhetoric, both of them caught up in emotions and the need to seek each other’s comfort. It was true that they’d become a bit more intimate in the way they initiated physical contact, but it wasn’t enough for him. He needed a sort of confirmation, a tangible name that he could give to what they had.

“So, what are we exactly?” Lance asked one day, head draped against Keith’s shoulder as he watched him page through a small guidebook. 

Keith paused in his reading, his head gently tapping against Lance’s as he closed the book and set it aside. “What do you mean?”

Lance huffed. “Like, are we dating?”

“I figured we were.”

“Right,” Lance mumbled, partially satisfied at how easily he was able to get an answer to his concerns. “Just wanted to make sure.” He reached out for Keith’s hand first this time, careful as he laced their fingers together. Keith reacted just as quick, his grip firm and steady. It felt so natural, the way their hands joined, fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. 

“Is something bothering you?” Keith asked, a hint of worry tinged in his tone. He brushed his thumb against the side of Lance’s hand, soft and gentle in the way that Lance liked.

Lance wanted to brush it aside, content with the fact that he’d accomplished his main goal, but he sat up anyways, wanting to ask. “It’s just…” He stammered for a few seconds and blew out an irritated breath, more at himself than anything. This was not the time to be shy. “Why haven’t you kissed me? I mean an actual one.”

It was Keith’s turn to be thrown off guard, his eyes large as a hint of pink tinged at his cheeks. He opened his mouth and closed it, seemingly at a loss for words. Lance allowed himself to enjoy the sight a bit; it was rare for Keith to look so flustered, and for him to be the one to put in him that state was a bit satisfying. 

“I didn’t…” Keith started, only to shake his head. “I didn’t want to rush things. Or make you feel like I’m pressuring you into something you’re not ready for.”

“I’m fine,” Lance said.

Keith didn’t seem to listen, as always. He looked away, the red spreading to his ears. “You’re still recovering, and… I don’t know, I wanted to wait until--”

Lance grumbled and tugged his hand free as he straightened up, shuffling around and placing himself in front of Keith, both legs on either side so that he was straddling him. As expected, Keith trailed off in an instant, stunned for a second time as Lance grabbed at his face, lifting it so that their eyes met once more.

“And _I’m_ saying,” Lance prompted, a smile on his face, “that it’s okay.” He tilted his head, one eyebrow raised in a silent question. “Unless you don’t want to?”

Keith’s hands found their way on Lance’s waist, a steady support that left his skin burning with exhilaration. “I do,” he said, voice unsteady. The shock had worn off his face, leaving nothing but awe and affection in his gaze, something Lance preened at. 

“Good,” was all Lance said before he leaned in, their mouths meeting in a quick peck before he pulled back just as swiftly. Lance knew that didn’t constitute as a real kiss, but just the slight contact was enough to spread a fire through his body, his mind filled with nothing but fierce affection as he grinned down at the boy beneath him. That one didn’t count, he decided.

He’d barely entertained the idea of a second kiss when Keith moved, one hand reaching up to cup at the back of Lance’s neck and pull him down so that their lips fit together one more. Lance felt his chest thrill at the contact, eyes fluttering shut as he kissed back, this time with more vigor. It was amazing, the rush of happiness and content he felt at something as simple as this, one that filled him to the brim and stopped him from thinking about anything else. He stuttered in a little gasp when Keith grew more persistent, his tongue pressing in to let their kiss deepen, and Lance let him, his hands still buried in the locks of Keith’s hair.

He wasn’t sure how long it took before they finally broke away, cut off by the need for air, but it was definitely not long enough. He took in a few breaths, a giggle escaping him when he caught the dazed look in Keith’s eyes. They were almost reverent in the way they looked at Lance, his thumbs brushing against Lance’s hips so gently, as if he’d shatter should they press too hard. 

“That wasn’t so bad, don’t you think?” Lance said, his own hands tracing the line of Keith’s cheekbone. Lance could quite literally stare and enjoy this sight all day, if he could.

Keith blinked at his words, a bit of clarity creeping back into his eyes. He leaned forward, hands pulling Lance closer as he kissed at the crook of Lance’s neck. It was barely enough to leave a mark, but the sensation still managed to send a shudder of electricity down Lance’s spine. It was addictive, the way Keith kissed him.

“I love you,” Keith said, face pressed against Lance’s jawline as he peppered more kisses there. It was barely audible, but Lance heard it all the same, the words burning hot where they brushed against his skin.

Lance’s chest felt ready to explode, so filled he was with this indescribable feeling. It left him breathless, to the point where his eyes began to sting with tears. He let these fall, though, comforted by the fact that these were happy tears, and they continued to fill him with joy even as they tracked down his cheeks. He smiled, one that only grew bigger when Keith pulled back to look at him, expression tender and vulnerable all the same. 

“I love you, too.” Lance said, and bent down for another kiss. 

He’d be okay. He was sure of it now.

**Author's Note:**

> i've only really watched a handful of voltron episodes so i don't know if i was accurate in terms of where lance and keith's rooms were T___T i know their rooms are near each other, just not how close oops let's just brush over that fact for this fic
> 
> pretty unsatisfied for the way i dealt with the mercenaries but maybe i'll write a later fic where the team gets a better form of revenge LOL 
> 
> sorry if some moments seem ooc (esp lance and keith dear god) it's been a while since i've gotten back into voltron :')


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